


Sensible Conduct

by stephanericher



Series: 31 Days of Horoscopes [9]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:17:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9415745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: 1/20: Question the validity of anything you come in conflict with today, Aquarius. You might find that people act on incomplete information, and that they're falsely accusing you of something you didn't say or do. Work to bring harmony to the situation by getting to the truth and helping to make the real motivations known. Words may be charged with strong emotions, so be gentle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this 31-day challenge is based on the wonderful [31-Day Horoscope Challenge by @icandrawamoth](http://archiveofourown.org/series/621022). Simply: read your horoscope for the day from horoscope.com (Aquarius for me); use it as a writing prompt.
> 
> ...i took a lot of liberties with this prompt lol

Ishida feels guilty about thinking it, even for a second. It’s dumb; it doesn’t hold up to second thoughts much less actual logic, but it’s an impulse he has all the same. Haizaki wouldn’t steal from his own cargo; to suggest that would be ridiculous and would require a lot more cunning than fits on the ship with all three of them onboard. The lost goods are either a budgeting error or simply misplaced somewhere else on the ship that all of them had thought the other two had checked (the possibility that someone else had stolen them is even more laughable; Haizaki is a lot of things but bad at his job as guard of the _Fukuda Sogo_ , its crew, and its cargo, is certainly not one of them, and in the early days the only reason Ishida had let him stick around).

Mochizuki has less of a filter between his brain and his mouth, and less of a tendency to examine his thoughts even a second time.

“Did you take that ammo?” he says, oh-so-casually.

Ishida wants to kill him, probably not as much as Haizaki does. Haizaki freezes, then slowly lowers the crate in his hands to the floor. His hands are on his belt, but he makes no move to draw any of his weapons.

“What?”

“Well?” Mochizuki demands. “Did you?”

Both of their faces swivel to Ishida, and Ishida doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Haizaki takes his silence for what it isn’t (but it’s a fair assumption, Ishida supposes) and scowls, jamming his hands in his pockets.

“So what if I did? The hell’s it matter to you?”

And then he’s off, stomping down the freighter floor as he goes. Mochizuki opens his mouth again, but Ishida raises his hand to cut him off.

“But what if he’s taking it with him?”

“Do you think he took it?” Ishida says.

“He just admitted he did,” says Mochizuki.

Ishida frowns. That’s more than a bit of a stretch to say it was an admission, more of a rise to meeting Mochizuki’s goading and Mochizuki should know it.

“Okay,” Mochizuki says. “Maybe it wasn’t.”

Ishida sighs. “Search for it. It’s probably been misplaced somewhere onboard, so check all the compartments.”

Mochizuki nods, and Ishida makes his way back to the cockpit. He gives it a once-over just to make sure there’s not a box hiding under one of the seats and then starts up the electric kettle. Even if he gives Haizaki time, he’ll still need a peace offering, and tea will have to do. From the viewport, he can see Haizaki slouching around the hangar in a way he knows is suspicious, but no one’s stopping him. No one cares enough way out here, and they’ve seen worse than posturing tough guys taking an early break. Mochizuki’s still rummaging around by the time the tea’s ready, but when and whether they find it doesn’t matter, only that Haizaki knows he’s not alone.

Haizaki’s sitting on an empty crate by the wall, looking out the hangar viewport onto the flat horizon, when Ishida approaches. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t take the mug of tea, thumbing over the dented handle of his favorite vibroblade where it’s clipped to his belt, but he doesn’t outright reject it either, and Ishida considers that an invitation to start.

“I know you didn’t do it. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything faster.”

Haizaki glances up, assesses Ishida’s face, and then looks back down.

“I know it wasn’t you because you had no reason to do it. You know if you did you’d be caught, and it would be a choice of confessing or admitting you hadn’t done your job,” Ishida continues.

That gets more of  Haizaki’s attention. His eyes narrow; he’s still thumbing the handle of the vibroblade, but he’s looking at Ishida now.

“Mochizuki says stupid things sometimes, and…” Ishida sighs. “I’ll make sure he apologizes, and that he means it, after he finds the merchandise.”

Haizaki’s shoulders relax slightly, but not all the way. The apology won’t mean much to him, but Mochizuki blaming him is going to stick around for a long time, maybe as long as they work together.

“I guess I don’t blame him,” Haizaki says. “I steal things.”

His voice is flat; it’s clear he doesn’t half-believe what he’s saying, and he shouldn’t. Yes, he’s a former petty criminal and he probably still picks a pocket or two when they’re stationed somewhere for a while, but he’s not going to bite the hand that feeds him too hard (and that’s probably a lesson he had to learn several times, given the gaps in his background check Ishida had found when hiring him). Ishida reaches out, before he really knows what he’s doing, and pats Haizaki’s head, fingers lodging in the gaps between the braids. Haizaki scowls but there’s no heat behind it (Ishida takes his hand away all the same).

They lapse into a silence not unlike the ones on the ship where Ishida’s bored with his book and Haizaki’s staring a hole into the wall while Mochizuki’s off fiddling with some system or other and they’re hurtling through hyperspace. This time there’s something to look at other than the familiar tunneling streaks, the planet this moon orbits bowing low in the sky, green-streaked yellow outside the viewport. It’s pretty in an indistinct way, the way of a thousand other planets and stars and moons Ishida’s watched set, all colors and sizes and speeds. Soon enough they all blur together, though once they had been special; once this had been his escape from the rock he’d grudgingly called home. This life isn’t forever for him, and probably not for Haizaki, either, whatever his reasons were for leaving Coruscant (probably bad memories).

This accusation could be a convenient way out, but Haizaki might not take it, not yet. He’s not going to leave if he’s got nowhere to go; he’s got that much more in common with Ishida. Haizaki takes a cautious sip of the tea, and it’s got to be lukewarm by now but he says nothing. He’ll be alright, for now, as much as any of them are. But it’s Mochizuki who needs a checkup and a real talking-to, and Ishida’s not quite looking forward to it. It has to be done, though; that’s his job as captain (all the responsibility, none of the benefits). He claps Haizaki on the shoulder and stands up.

“We’re in no rush to leave. Just keep an eye out, and I’ll comm you if I need anything.”

“Isn’t this supposed to be my break?” Haizaki says.

Ishida doesn’t bother responding. Even if Haizaki’s smirking like he won something, let him. Ishida won’t begrudge him that.


End file.
